


Home Comforts

by Silverfishy



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Languages, M/M, Pizza, Semi-Public Sex, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4145478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfishy/pseuds/Silverfishy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seunghyun's a corporate genius, the youngest manager ever and boss' son, fresh off the plane from Seoul to supervise a billion dollar company merger.</p><p>Jiyong's the pizza guy who speaks Korean like he was born there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the space of a couple months in my emails whilst bored at work. See if you can spot Youngbae, Daesung and Seungri in cameo roles!

It starts with pizza.

Well, to be more accurate, it _starts_ with caviar because he`s heard it’s a delicacy and for some godforsaken reason they've given him the company credit card to play with for this trip. Big expectations, or something, the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, a bright future, all that jazz, but really all he`s getting from this is that his father`s name still carries weight even when he`s on a whole other continent.

He`s got the diet plan from the personal trainer sticky taped to the minibar door to try and curb temptation, which means he`s in the bedroom using the room service phone so as not to see the list of rabbit food staring at him.

It turns out caviar is disgusting, as is fois gras, and he stares at the premium fillet mignon steak feeling faintly betrayed and a little sick as the blood congeals on the otherwise immaculate plate.

So, pizza.

He drops his voice as he gives the address, as if whatever high roller is in the next room over might hear him order a double cheese supreme and contact the front desk to have him thrown out. For lowering the tone of the whole establishment, and why can he hear that exact phrase in his father`s voice in his head? The pizza guy doesn`t seem phased though, and only sounds bored as he confirms the name and room number.

Seunghyun gives his first name because he doesn`t want anyone making the link between him and his father right now, but the pizza guy doesn`t even pause for breath over the foreign syllables, which surprises Seunghyun so much he`s left still holding a dial tone when the other end of the line goes dead.

He covers his puzzlement with deciding to double check the itinerary for the next few days, and then gets so caught up in contingencies and last minute alterations that he doesn`t hear the door buzzer the first or second times. It`s the thumping of a fist on woodwork that finally gets his attention, and he`s wondering what kind of person risks the ire of the kind of client this hotel usually garners when he opens the door and his train of thought gets stuck.

Red and black leather is the first thing his eyes catch on, tucked into almost absurdly huge motorcycle boots. Whatever pizza company he ended up calling, and for the life of him he cannot remember the name right now, it clearly doesn`t have a uniform. Unless lurid graffiti-print leather jackets are a part of that uniform, which he doubts. The guy`s face is what really throws him off though, that and the long tumble of black from the otherwise close cropped hair that ends in bright pink dye. It really ought not to go with the blood red of the jacket, but somehow it looks better than Seunghyun`s Armani suits, especially in conjunction with the gorgeous face underneath.

The guy raises a bored eyebrow and proffers the cardboard box at him from where it`s trapped between them. Seunghyun takes it without really looking, eyes still stuck on the pizza guy`s face, and it`s only when the other eyebrow gets raised too that he realises he`s staring. "Ah! Sorry. Uh, thanks..." He trails off and retreats back inside to put the box on a table, waving his hand at the guy in apology. "Sorry, I`ve got the money here somewhere."

He`s hunting through the open suitcase that he really wishes he`d gotten further through unpacking before getting bored and deciding to eat, but his wallet is nowhere to be found. He looks up to see the guy still waiting in the doorway and mentally cringes at how unprofessional he must look right now. Hell of a first impression, although at least it`s only to the pizza guy and not to the partners.

"You can come in if you want, I`ve just got to work out where I put my wallet. Sorry, I only just flew in a couple of hours ago." He`s apologising too much. The guy doesn`t respond and doesn`t enter the room, but he does cross his arms and lean against the doorframe slightly, an edge of something playing around his mouth that Seunghyun isn`t sure whether it`s amusement or annoyance. Isn`t sure which would be worse either.

There`s awkward silence for a few seconds punctuated by Seunghyun taking everything out of his hand luggage and spreading it across the coffee table with it`s ostentatious engraved logo that is soon obscured by files and reciepts and more files.

He`s desperately scrabbling for something to say so he doesn`t look like a complete inept moron and when he looks up again his eyes catch once more on the beautiful face of the pizza guy and what comes out is "So, are you Korean?" Which is stupid, stupid, he`s berating himself as soon as he says it because what if the guy`s Chinese, or Japanese or something, and he shouldn`t have assumed just because he didn`t stumble over Seunghyun`s name like every other American he`s met so far.

But then he hears a noise that sounds affirmative and he looks up to see the guy nodding. "Just back from the motherland?" The pizza guy says, and he`s got an accent Seunghyun`s not familiar with but Korean trips off his tongue in a way which says native, not studied.

"Not back." Seunghyun says, replying in Korean as well, and the ease of it after forcing his mouth around English combined with the relief when he spots his wallet under the bed by the phone makes him grin at the pizza guy as he straightens up. "It`s my first time."

"Welcome to America." The guy drawls in over-the-top, American movie English, and smirks a little. "That`ll be twenty dollars fifty."

Seunghyun counts the still unfamiliar notes out and remembers to tip, his US culture lessons coming back to him. The pizza guy stows the cash away in some inner pocket of his jacket and nods, turning to go. Seunghyun stands in the doorway staring at his retreating back and wants to say _Wait_ , to say _What`s your name_ , to make contact with someone who`s not one of his business contacts or his father`s friends, but he leaves it too long and the _ding_ of the lift announces he`s lost his chance.

Well. Maybe he’ll have pizza tomorrow as well. Fuck the diet plan.

-

He`s, well, not yelling into his bluetooth headset when he opens the door this time, but certainly speaking with all the conviction and imperative that watching his father talk to underlings for his whole life has taught him.

"I don`t care how many years you`ve worked for this company, I want that report on my desk tomorrow at eight thirty or you can go back to Seoul yourself to explain to the board how you lost the biggest client this side of the Pacific." _Sorry_ he mouths at the pizza guy, who definitely looks amused this time as he hands over the box.

"Tomorrow. Eight thirty, or you can find a new job." He growls into the receiver, and places the pizza box on the dresser whilst cutting the call with the other hand. "Sorry about that." He says to the pizza guy, who`s still smirking a little.

"Bad day?" The guy asks in Korean, and Seunghyun smiles at him as he goes for the wallet sitting ready on the coffee table this time.

"Just assholes trying to give the new kid a hard time." He says, and fails to keep the bitterness and exhaustion out of his voice. His first day on the job had been a whirl of meetings, new faces and assessments and he can already feel the swirl of office politics pulling him in. Even if he hadn`t decided yesterday that he was going to try and meet the delivery guy again he would have opted for pizza - comfort food has never felt so necessary. Also he now doesn`t have any cash. "You take card?"

"Sure." The guy says, and pulls the reader out from Seunghyun isn`t quite sure where. There certainly doesn`t look like there`d be any room in the tight leather outfit the guy`s wearing.

"Does the front desk ever give you a hard time?" Seunghyun wonders out loud, and then wonders whether he should have. Is that too personal of a question to ask a guy you`re only buying pizza from? He hopes the guy doesn`t take it as an insult.

But instead he grins at Seunghyun from where he`s typing into the reader, and Seunghyun is once more struck by his pretty face, the light in those eyes. "Nah, they know me pretty well by now. You aren`t the only rich kid who craves home comforts." He hands over the terminal and Seunghyun types out his pin, his mother`s birthday.

Their hands brush slightly as he hands it back and Seunghyun chooses to blame that for when he blurts "What`s your name?"

The guy looks up at him, surprise written on his face for a moment before that amused smirk is back. "Why? You planning on becoming a regular customer?" There`s teasing in his voice and Seunghyun feels something warm go through him. It`s been so long since anyone teased him.

"Maybe." He smirks back. "You planning on showing up whenever I call?" This time the guy actually laughs, ducks his head a little with a grin that makes him look young and carefree. He turns and walks away still grinning and Seunghyun calls after him. "Hey! You didn`t tell me your name!"

"Tomorrow!" He calls back, and Seunghyun`s got a matching grin on his face as he closes the door, already thinking about it.

-

He doesn`t have to give an address the third day, just says "It`s Seunghyun" and hears the guy hum in acknowledgement before confirming the order. Nobody calls, and he finished up his work for the day earlier, so when the buzzer goes he`s on his feet and striding to the door in seconds. It`s the wrong guy, though, some blond kid with a fringe that seems to nearly swallow his face.

Seunghyun pauses for a second, before taking note of the kid`s puzzled expression and taking the proffered box. "Where`s the other guy?" He asks, trying to sound casual even though there`s this weird hollow feeling in his chest. He counts out notes to try and cover anything that might have gotten through.

"Who, Jiyong?" The guy says, and Seunghyun knows his name now but its not as satisfying for some reason. "Dunno. Family emergency or something." The kid shrugs and Seunghyun wants to shake him, but recognises the impulse as unreasonable and clamps down on it. "Why, he your usual or something?"

"No." Seunghyun answers, handing over the money without looking at it. "I barely know him."

"Huh." The kid shrugs again, and puts the money away, turning to go. "Have a nice night."

"Thanks." The door shuts behind him, and Seunghyun looks down at the pizza box, warming his hands and already filling the room with the smell of delicious greasy cheese and carbohydrates.

Then he puts it on the coffee table and goes to the kitchen. There`s no-dressing Caesar Salad in the refrigerator.

-

He sticks to the diet plan for a week, spending his days in board meetings and his nights in conference calls. Company takeovers are messy, complicated things and he wants desperately to be taken seriously in his own right, not just as the son of the boss. Tensions run high and the risk of losing hundreds of millions of dollars keeps everyone snapping at each other`s heels, even whilst making nice to the new hierarchy. He`s feeling his way through long-running disputes and trying to establish himself, and every time he gives instructions to men who`ve been working in the business longer than he`s been alive he has to lock his knees to stop himself from shaking in his two hundred dollar loafers.

He`s good, though, had been called a genius by some back home. He navigates the murky waters of office politics and even manages to make a couple of tentative allies, as the others start to recognise that he does know what he`s doing, he`s not a stupid kid playing at his dad`s game.

The first time another manager level employee endorses Seunghyun`s policy proposal in front of the rest of the board, he barely manages to contain his smile of relief until he`s back in his hotel room. Collapsing onto the sofa, he closes his eyes and savours the moment of rest. He feels some of the tension in his back start to ease and when he opens his eyes, they fall on the edge of the flyer for the pizza place, sticking out from under some three-day-old reports.

He could call a different pizza house. He could order something else, Chinese, Indian, Greek, hell he could order Korean if he wanted.

He could do lots of things.

What he ends up doing is staring down at the flyer while the dial tone for Dragon Pizza rings in his ear. He feels like he ought to be able to tell the second the guy picks up whether or not it`s Jiyong.

As it is, he doesn`t live in a movie, so he gets all the way to giving the address before he hears the pause in the conversation flow that means he`s probably talking to him right now. Jiyong doesn`t react other than that brief hesitation though, and Seunghyun puts the phone down with a weird feeling in his stomach that he can`t pin down as good or bad.

When he opens the door he wonders if it`ll be the other guy again, the kid with the blond emo hair, but it`s Jiyong standing there in his red leather jacket and striking hair and beautiful, slightly awkward-looking face.

"Thanks." Seunghyun says, and it`s not what he wants to say but he doesn`t know what the right words would be. It seems absurd to apologise for not ordering pizza for a week, most likely the other guy hadn`t even noticed. But he can see the same hesitance and _something_ he feels echoed in Jiyong`s gaze.

He`s passing over money, and the transaction is nearly over, far too soon. He wants to hold it up, to slow it somehow, so he`s surprised when it`s Jiyong who speaks instead.

"I`m Jiyong."

"I know." Seunghyun says. "The... that other guy told me."

Jiyong is looking down at the floor as he tucks the money away and that`s it, Seunghyun is so  _stupid_ because he had a chance, a conversation opener and he blew it. But Jiyong`s not done. "Ah, yeah. Daesung covers when I can`t do deliveries. Were you... expecting me?"

Of course he was, Seunghyun wants to say, but it`ll come out serious and sad if he lets himself. He can feel the awkwardness between them that hasn`t gone away yet, but he can also hear the tiny edge of what might have been teasing in Jiyong`s voice, and he wants to believe that this can still work. He can still have a friend.

"Nah." He answers, and sees Jiyong`s head snap up, surprise and hurt not quite hidden in his features, but Seunghyun just continues airily talking like he hasn`t a care in the world. "Besides, that other kid was cuter than you anyway." He smiles a little at Jiyong, who looks shocked for a second. Then that stunning grin spreads over his face again and Seunghyun can`t believe he went a week without searching for it.

"How dare you!" Jiyong mock pouts, putting one hand on his hip and cocking it like a model. "I`m sexier and more adorable by far."

"More humble, too." Seunghyun agrees, but now they’re both laughing, and how did he get this invested in his pizza delivery guy in the space of less than two weeks? He`s been alone for far too long.

"This is gonna be a little weird." He says, and Jiyong looks at him, laughter still in his eyes but fading to be replaced by curiosity. "Do you want to... come in? I probably shouldn`t eat a whole pizza for dinner again. Unless... are you sick of pizza when you make it every day?"

Jiyong looks hesitant, bites his lip a little which distracts Seunghyun for several seconds, but shakes his head. "Sorry. I have a Vegetarian Deluxe for another guy in the building and a Meat Feast for a lady a few streets away going cold on my bike." "Oh." Seunghyun says, and that edge of awkardness is back.

"Is that what they`re calling it these days?" It`s meant to be a joke but it falls a little flat to his ears. Jiyong grins back a little anyway though, and then they`re just standing there waiting.

The silence stretches.

"Well. You know where to find me." Jiyong`s half smile isn`t what Seunghyun wants, but he can`t think of the words, all the competence and confidence of his work persona absent. He`s left staring at Jiyong`s retreating back again and it`s just like before, all the progress and jokes and real, non-work-related human interaction for nothing.

He thumps his head on the hard wood of the door, sighs, and closes it.

He eats the pizza.

-

Time, inevitably, passes.

Things start to fall into place at work. The inflection when people say `Mister Choi` stops being so pointed and patronising, and his orders get followed with less dragging of feet and clarifications. The desk in his office, although huge, gradually gets cleared (mostly) of the reports and the feedback as people actually start doing the work he delegates to them, and doing it well. The few remaining dissenters and troublemakers are either given a stern talking to behind closed doors, or fired personally and audibly from his office, leaving them to stalk out angrily past the smaller offices of their colleagues and collect their belongings before being escorted from the premises.

He gets an approving letter from the head offices a week after the first of these firings. It`s embossed with the company logo and it has the name of his father at the bottom, but it`s undersigned by his secretary and Seunghyun is almost certain the man has barely glanced at it. More likely one of the other board members is responsible for the acknowledgement, and Seunghyun is grateful for it, really he is. He just wishes his father would expect less of him so that when he overachieves he could get some kind of recognition of his work, instead of cool dismissal.

 _As expected of my son_ , he would say, but Seunghyun stopped working himself to death for the man some time in high school. Now he works himself to death for his own sake, but sometimes he can acknowledge that even this is just another way to prove himself, and he's still that elementary school boy looking up to his father like the man hung the moon.

He eats takeout two or three times a week, and feels guilty for it. He tries other pizza restaurants, gets Indian and Chinese, even pushes the boat out and tries Turkish kebabs, which are delicious going in but leave him crouched in front of the toilet a few hours later throwing up.

Dragon Pizza keeps turning up on his expenses bills however, once or twice a week, and Jiyong delivers it every time. They exchange pleasantries, joke and tease each other, but Jiyong never crosses the barrier of the doorway. Every time he comes Seunghyun tries to get him to stay and talk a little longer, but the guy refuses to be drawn into conversations about his family, his job, why he`s in America, anything. His keeps his sharp, bright eyes and leather jacket and beautiful hair to himself, but Seunghyun just gets more captivated with each short conversation.

Jiyong is funny, and sarcastic, and occasionally really, really sweet when he`s not meaning to be, like the time one of his neighbours walks past with a tiny puppy face peeking out of the top of her handbag and Seunghyun can see the way Jiyong melts when the pup yips at him and wags its tail.

The guy is also, and this is the part Seunghyun keeps firmly inside his head, one of the most attractive people he`s ever met, which has included models and idols in his slightly younger years. Jiyong only gets more devastating each time they meet, and Seunghyun worries that he might be falling for the guy in a way he`s not going to be able to easily come back from.

Jiyong makes it so easy though, when their jokes progress from carefully neutral to more teasing, to downright abusive and hilarious, and then to what Seunghyun swears has got to be flirting.

-

He passes the five week mark, and he`s been in the US for over a month, halfway through the time allotted to him to get the new offices off the ground and running, and he`s confident that he`ll not only have everything under control by the time he has to go back, but that he`s built a strong network of contacts here that will be very useful if he does end up following his father`s plan and running to company one day.

The monthly report comes back and its positive, affirming. He`s happy with work and he`s even happy with the back-and-forth he has with Jiyong a couple times a week, and he thinks that nothing could ruin his satisfaction at things going the right way.

He`s wrong, of course.

The phone call comes as he`s just about to pack up and go home. Perversely, he suspects that it was planned that way. His secretary has gone home an hour before, and it`s dark outside. There are still a few lights on in the offices, other workaholics like himself burning the midnight oil, but he closes the door because as soon as he sees the name on the caller ID he knows he`s not going to want to risk anyone hearing him.

He stares at the handset like it’s a poisonous insect before taking a deep breath and picking it up, making his voice steady with an iron will tempered by weeks of standing up to his colleagues.

"Hello father."

Their conversation is in Korean, and it`s strange, speaking it in the office like this. He`s started to associate it with the hotel room, with talking to Jiyong, but it comes out as naturally as it ever did when speaking to his father.

He`s in trouble, predictably. Otherwise why would Choi senior call? Some client is threatening a lawsuit, talking about data which Seunghyun is sure he had dealt with two weeks ago. Not fast enough, apparently, and he`s such a disappointment to his father, he can hear the tone even though the words are never actually spoken. The older man doesn`t need to, after all, they`ve had variations on this conversation for as long as Seunghyun`s memory stretches back, and never has it not been implied that Seunghyun is not living up to the family name. To the _legacy_.

The words themselves don`t actually matter, when they`re done and he`s left holding a dead handset he doesn`t remember them. There`s just the echo, hollowing him out and making everything he`s done this past month seem worthless.

He keeps his face impassive as he exits the building, makes sure to nod at the security guards, but he still ends up walking in the opposite direction to his hotel without really knowing where he`s going.

Back in Seoul there was a bar he`d always run to, escaped to when his father`s voice had been ringing in his ears and he felt the heavy weight across his shoulders that he`d itched to throw off. It had been loud, raucous even, and smoky and sleazy and everything the rest of his life wasn`t, and it`d been perfect. He thinks that`s why he finds himself ducking into a side street when he hears the thump of music and pushes his way through a knot of patrons at the door to get inside.

He`s dressed completely wrong, of course. Everyone else here looks like they stepped off of the pages of some kind of fashion magazine, one of those ones where you looked like you`d flailed around in a wardrobe and walked out wearing what had stuck to you.

He slips into the bathroom and takes off his suit jacket and tie, leaving him in a tailored shirt he rolls up the sleeves of, a waistcoat and slacks. He undoes the top two buttons of his collar and tousles his hair to try and get rid of some of the stiffness, and takes a look in the mirror. Passable, he reckons, and thinks he's lucky all the takeout recently hasn't yet managed to undo the painstaking work of his personal trainer.

His assessment proves correct when he exits the bathroom and the gazes that fall across him are speculative and appreciative rather than dismissive as they'd been before. He's still about two dress codes too smart for this place, but at least he looks closer to his actual age. Some of the glances he gets as he makes his way to the bar are downright predatory, but he isn't here for that, and he signals the bartender.

When he's out with the company he's partial to scotch, a taste he made sure to acquire when he was younger, even though he privately thinks it's an old man's drink. Now he hesitates, realising they probably won't have soju, his drink of choice back in Seoul. "What do you recommend?" He tries to tell over the music, but the guy just shakes his head. Maybe the music is too loud, or maybe it’s his accent, but Seunghyun just wants something to drink so he can start to unwind. He scans the drink menu and points at something that sounds palatable, then sits back and looks around, taking in the bar. Seems pretty standard, an open dance space, tables and chairs around the edges, a stage taking up one wall.

There`s a guy moving about next to some sound equipment at the edge of the stage but the music is still pumping through speakers rather than being live. He sips his drink when it arrives and ignores the glances sent his way, focussing instead on his heartbeat, on feeling the beat that thrums through the floor and the bar where he`s leaning on it. The dance floor is full, couples and strangers dancing and dry humping, and his father would never set foot in a place like this in a million years.

He feels it before he sees it, like his body`s picking up the signals subconsciously so that he`s already looking at the stage, hair standing on end. Maybe it’s something in the quality of the music that changes, but suddenly all he can do is watch, and it seems he`s not the only one as the crowd turns .

The sound changes, goes from pumping and ambient to more focused, and more real. This isn`t recorded, this is being played right now, and the guy who`d been fiddling with the speakers is now at a rig, huge headphones slipped over his ears as the music changes and simplifies until it’s just a beat, low and vibrating through the floor.

_“Wild and young, I`m just wild and young, do it just for fun.”_

The crowd roars and onto the stage steps _Jiyong_ and it`s so unexpected that he`s left standing with his mouth open like a goldfish, staring. He`s wearing leather pants again, black this time, and the monster truck boots Seunghyun`s come to know so well.

He barely listens to the music, too captivated by the light catching on the heaps of silver jewellery the guy`s festooned in and the way Jiyong narrows his eyes as he growls lyrics into the mic. The shirt he`s wearing can barely be called that, it shows off all of his sides with the tantalising dark threads of words running across skin. Seunghyun wants to know what those words say, to trace his tongue over the lines of ink. He wonders if Jiyong would be more likely to curse or mewl, and can`t decide which idea he likes better. It`s over too soon and Seunghyun realises he has no idea what how long it even lasted, no idea how long he spent standing there without touching his drink, eyes glued to the stage.

When he tips his head back and downs whatever it was he ordered the bartender is giving him a knowing glance, and Seunghyun feels a flush threaten his cheeks. "Good, isn`t he." The guy says, and Seunghyun tries to fake nonchalance, like he wasn`t just fantasizing about the musician less than a minute ago.

"He`s alright."

This time the bartender actually throws his head back and laughs, and Seunghyun might have been offended except there`s no mockery in it, just genuine amusement, and he feels his own lips quirk up in a self-deprecating grin. "You`ve been gripping that glass hard enough to crack the whole time he was on stage. Either he`s done something terrible to someone you love, or you`re caught, butterfly."

Seunghyun raises one eyebrow at the nickname. "Maybe I just like the music."

"Sure." The guy says, copying his purposefully airy tone. "And if you can tell me with a straight face that you`re not hard right now, maybe I`ll believe you." Seunghyun`s mouth is open, but he can feel the blush creeping up his neck doing a far better job of revealing the truth than even his lack of a comeback will.

The bartender laughs again. "Stick around after the show." He says, placing another drink in front of Seunghyun with a grin. "I have a feeling you`ll get lucky. That`s on the house."

He gestures to the drink, and Seunghyun is very confused. "Why? Not just the drink, but..."

"Because Ji could do with someone who looks at him like you."

And before he can parse that statement the bartender is gone, down the other end of the bar and leaving Seunghyun with a drink he can`t pronounce and a strange churning in the pit of his stomach.

The shows end about an hour later according to his Rolex (which he hadn`t wanted but which his father had given him for a twenty fifth birthday present and, well, he hadn`t wanted to appear ungrateful). He`s still sitting at the bar half an hour after that and wondering what he`s doing. His foul mood has returned and he`s nursing a drink two down from where he`s pretty sure he should have stopped if he doesn`t want to be hungover tomorrow. He`s just about to grumpily call it a night when Jiyong slides onto the bar seat next to him.

"Bae!" He calls down at the bartender, who looks back at the two of them and grins. "Shots, Tequila!" The other man nods and Jiyong turns back to Seunghyun, a wry smile splitting his face. "So. Stalking me now? Having all of this turn up to your room whenever you call not good enough?"

"I didn`t know you`d be here." Seunghyun tries to make the sincerity show in his voice and not get too distracted by the light sheen of sweat that makes Jiyong glow under the bar lights. "I just wanted a drink."

"Hmm." Jiyong leans closer and stares piercingly into his eyes. Seunghyun can`t move, he`s close enough to feel the puffs of air as Jiyong breathes out, close enough that he can imagine the body heat. "I`ll believe you. But only because I`m in a good mood." He flashes a disarmingly cocky grin and reaches for one of the shot glasses the bartender has just placed in front of them. "Cheers, Bae."

"You know each other?" Seunghyun says and he`s been drinking on his own for too long because some of the leftover bitterness came out in that question. He sees Jiyong`s eyes narrow a little, his words snapped.

"I`m allowed to have other friends, Seunghyun. I have a whole life you don`t know about." _Clearly_. Seunghyun thinks, but that’s still bitter and he isn`t feeling like that anymore really, and _Jiyong just said they were friends_.

He`s cheering internally and he doesn`t want to mess this up because Jiyong is right there and his skin is tingling at the thought that he could brush their arms together if he just leaned over a bit. He thought this could be an opportunity to talk, really talk about the other man, not get brushed off like Jiyong does every time he refuses to come into the hotel room, dodges and redirects questions.

"Wait, Seunghyun? You`re Seunghyun?" The bartender guy looks even more pleased with himself now; looking back and forth between them like this is his lucky day.

"Bae, shut up." Jiyong growls and the other man laughs again, before holding out his hand across the bar.

"Nice to finally meet you." His grin is shit-eating and Seunghyun is just processing what exactly that means when Jiyong groans and grabs his arm and he can feel the warmth of those fingers on the skin of his wrist and _fuck_.

"Come on, let`s just dance before this asshole tells you something even more embarrassing."

And he`s pulling Seunghyun off the stool and away from the bar, as he hears Bae shout "His favourite colour`s pink!" at their retreating backs.

Jiyong pulls them into the mass of people writhing to the synthetic beat thumping through the speakers and the floor, fewer than earlier but still enough that Seunghyun is feeling mildly claustrophobic by the time the other man pauses and turns to face him.

"Pink?" He yells to try and distract himself from the bodies pressing in around him, and Jiyong tosses his head and sends his long fuchsia bangs flying. "You`re just jealous you can`t pull it off." He yells back, and then he`s dancing and Seunghyun forgets what they were talking about, forgets the other people around.

Jiyong moves like liquid, like the beat is sending ripples through him, and when the crowd surges around them and pushes their bodies close together Seunghyun is the furthest thing from minding. His hands find their way to Jiyong`s waist automatically and he can feel the bone above the line of the leather pants, the heat of the skin beneath the scant fabric that covers his hips. Jiyong looks up at him through hooded eyes and Seunghyun feels his blood rush hot and dizzying through his veins, the beat of his heart, or is it the music?

The crowd surges again and theirs bodies are crammed against one another, one hot line from thigh to chest and he'd be more worried about the fact that Jiyong can definitely feel his hard-on right now if there wasn't a matching pressure up against his hipbone.

Jiyong pushes up against him and his eyes are closed but there's something cocky and playful in the curve of his mouth and it's definitely not the crowd moving him anymore. Seunghyun lets his head fall forward so his mouth is next to Jiyong's ear, lets out some of the breath he's been finding it hard to take with a hint of voice in it, feels Jiyong's answering pant.

"You wanna..." The other man trails off but the question remains in his eyes and Seunghyun doesn't want this just to be a quick fuck but he can't deny the heat in that gaze.

"Come on." He mutters, and turns, pulling Jiyong by the arm towards the bathrooms. It's sleazy, he knows, and this honestly hadn't been the plan. One look back at the man following him though, the sharp glow of the club lights making Jiyong's eyes sparkle and his hair flashing as he tosses his head back, and he knows that this isn't a mistake.

Jiyong seems surprised when he pushes the smaller man into one of the stalls and against a wall, kicking the door shut behind him and locking it with his free hand before returning them both to the tantalizing curve of Jiyong's bony hips. He makes a noise when Seunghyun sinks to his knees, eyes wide. The kohl around his eyes makes him look feral, fierce, and Seunghyun wants to swallow him down, drink him in with eyes and mouth both.

"Your suit." Jiyong pants, hands clutching his shoulders, and Seunghyun shakes his head, pushing away the little voice that's ranting about designer brands, the company's money and filthy public bathrooms. He has other suits.

He pushes the fabric of Jiyong's shirt up to reveal the toned stomach beneath, stares for a moment at the black scrawled around his belly button before attaching his mouth to the inked skin. It tastes like salt and warmth and there's a catch of breath above him. He runs lips and tongue across the jumping skin beneath his hand whilst the other goes for the fastener of the leather pants the other man is wearing.

It's fiddly, far too tight with the way he can feel Jiyong straining against the already second skin-esque fabric. He frowns a little in annoyance as he has to pull his head away from all that tempting flesh, focus a little more on what he's trying to do. Jiyong huffs a little, and it’s laughter and indignation together. With three hands they manage to get the button undone and then Seunghyun can finally get his hands where his mouth wants to be.

It's not romantic. It's been a while, a long while, since Seunghyun's done this, and enthusiasm and what little he remembers from his last dalliance with another board member's son are not enough to make him some kind of genius at cock-sucking.

Jiyong certainly doesn't complain though, tentatively brushing his hand across Seunghyun's hair and then fisting it when he encourages the other man with a moan around his cock. He thrusts a little too hard a couple of times and Seunghyun has to pull back and cough, but cuts off Jiyong's sheepish apologies by going back for more. Seunghyun discovers Jiyong curses filth in a bastard mix of English and Korean when he's in the throes of pleasure and the familiarity thrown off by the foreign, exotic swears makes him shiver.

"Gonna come." Jiyong gasps, in Korean, and Seunghyun only looks up at him and swallows as the other man groans, holding his hips down as they try and jerk forward again.

He leans back when Jiyong's done and surveys the effect he's had on the other man, filling his eyes with the flushed skin across the collar bones, gasping mouth with red, bitten lips. He probably looks a sight himself, and when Jiyong fists his shirt collar in his hands and pulls up he goes with it, their lips crushed together with such abandon that telling who kissed who first would have been impossible.

It's their first kiss, he realises just as he pulls away, and he knows Jiyong can taste himself in Seunghyun's mouth, but the thought doesn't last long because Jiyong is pushing him backwards to crash against the other wall and going in for their second.

His suit slacks are undone with one deft hand that slips into his boxers like an extremely unsubtle insinuation, and he doesn't even try to hold back the groan that is swallowed by Jiyong's mouth as the other man wraps a hand around his aching dick. It isn't going to take long, he knows, and though his grasp of time isn't exactly on point at the moment it feels like only the work of a minute or two before he's clutching a handful of Jiyong's leather jacket in one hand, threads of fuschia and black silk twirled around the fingers of the other.

He pants hard into Jiyong's mouth as he comes, and the other man bites sharp teeth into the flesh of his lip, making sparks go up his spine and his hips thrust futilely as the aftershocks wash over him. They are both breathing hard, faces close together so that the air whistles between them as they come back to themselves, before their eyes meet like the inevitable crash of continents.

The silence stretches and Seunghyun feels it like a taut thread pulling at him, sees multiple futures spiralling away from this point, the threat of awkwardness like a thunderstorm hovering on the horizon, growing closer as the moment gets longer.

Then he summons his very bravest will and dips his head, taking Jiyong's mouth again in a kiss that is softer, sweeter than what they've shared so far.

He closes his eyes and feels the brush of Jiyong's eyelashes like butterfly kisses against his cheek as the other man does the same. When they break apart again some of the tension is lessened, and Seunghyun feels confidence that a room full of people looking up to him can’t even touch.

"Come to dinner with me." He says, asks, but it doesn't feel like a question because he doesn't want Jiyong to say no. There's uncertainty in the other man's eyes as they search his own and he knows it’s there because he recognises the feeling from the nervousness fluttering in his own chest. "Tomorrow."

"Okay." Jiyong says, voice softer than Seunghyun's heard it before, but the uncharacteristic vulnerability is chased by the quirk of those lips he's been so captivated by as the other man grins. "I get to choose the place though."

"Sure." And it doesn't feel easy, exactly, but it feels like it could be, like it has that potential, and the grin that threatens his own face like Jiyong's is contagious makes his heart feel light, like it might fly out of his chest at any moment. "Anything but pizza."

Jiyong laughs, warm and full bodied and kisses him again, the smile imprinting itself upon his own mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I still want to play in this universe more, so there will no doubt be sequels at some point. I feel like some desk!sex is in their future.


End file.
